Can You Feel My Heart?
by absolutemalfoy
Summary: ONE-SHOT ; Harry catches Draco and Hermione together and reacts just as she expected he would - not very well.


**Author's Note:** I wrote this for a friend sometime ago because she just really wanted a specific scene. She then turned it into a graphic. It's not my best work but rather than keep it on Tumblr, I uploaded it on here. The cover image is apart of her graphic. Enjoy.

* * *

Harry had never been in such a mood as he currently was. His life was seemingly perfect. Well, excluding the whole 'Boy-Who-Lived' and Voldemort's threatening of his life. Forgetting _those _two things_, _his life was near perfection. He had his best friends (whom he was certain were on their way to falling in love), he had his girl friend (who'd seen _that _one coming?), and now, well, Voldemort's Inner Circle was no longer a threat to the Light Side. After all, how could one be a threat when you were six feet under?

"Oi, mate!"

Looking up and pushing his glasses back in place, Harry looked at his best friend of six years. The redhead was smiling and seemed a bit… _too _happy. Harry couldn't help the hope that swelled in him. Had it happened? Were Ron and Hermione _finally _together? _Took them long enough, _he thought to himself as he nodded in acknowledgement to his friend.

"I need to tell you something," Ron began, "but you can't tell Hermione."

Raising a questioning eyebrow at the freckled boy, Harry nodded again. If it were something he felt Hermione should know, he'd tell her anyways. Otherwise, he'd gladly accept Ron's 'condition'.

Taking a deep breath before smiling proudly, Ron told Harry what he'd run all the way from Gryffindor Tower to say, "I slept with Lavender."

Harry couldn't help but choke on the spit he'd been in the process of swallowing. Ron suddenly looked alarmed as he slapped Harry on the back to alleviate him. He clearly did not see the shock on Harry's face. Once he calmed though, he did.

"_Lavender Brown?_ What about Hermione?" Harry asked, as he looked suddenly a bit worried_. _This was something Hermione needed to know, but he didn't want to hurt her. He knew she had feelings for Ron. She'd told him herself at the end of their sixth year. He'd seen the meaningful glances they'd shot each other. Why was Ron with Lavender?

Now it was Ron's turn to look puzzled, "Hermione? What about her?"

"You two – I thought you had something, you know."

Ron looked suddenly worried. He was at least a shade paler than normal.

"That's why you can't tell her yet. I-I know she likes me, Harry, and I love her, I really do. But she's like my little sister. She's like Ginny, Harry. I don't want her to be hurt or-"

"Shouldn't of gone off and slept with the easiest witch our year then," Harry spat out before his mind could even comprehend the words leaving his mouth. He learned, once his mind caught up with his mouth, that he would've said it anyways. Ron needed to hear it. He was happy for him, sure, but he wasn't going to let Ron ruin his friendship with Hermione over a mere – dare he say it – _whore. _

"Wow, I thought you'd be happy for me, Harry. I guess I was wrong," Ron's skin color was back to normal, with a slightly redder tint this time, as he replied to his best friend. He suddenly stepped away from the glasses-clad boy and turned to head back toward Gryffindor Tower. He needed to control his temper. Everyone knew how nasty it was.

"I hope for your sake that Hermione hears it from you first, if not already. Lavender tends to brag about her conquests, after all!" Harry yelled to his best friend's retreating back before turning with a glare and heading the opposite direction. He needed to find Hermione. He could only hope the Hogwarts Gossip Express had yet to reach her.

* * *

Hermione felt like she was breaking the ultimate rule. The number one, universal law, of friendship. If there was such a one, this was it. This was the law. And she was breaking it. Here she was, standing in the furthest back section of the Library you could reach, hidden behind shelves of books and with none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Does it really matter if they know or not?"

Turning because she had no choice to, Hermione connected brown eyes with silver. His hand gripping her chin in such a tender manner sent sparks across her skin. And his eyes – his gaze was melting. The pure look of… contentment. It was so different from the near six years of hatred she'd seen in those liquid silver eyes, those molten steel eyes. It was a great change and it made her feel alighted to have been the one to elicit such a thing in the otherwise stony Malfoy heir.

"It matters, Draco," Hermione finally broke away from her thoughts and answered the boy's question with a frown. She blinked furiously at the onslaught of tears she knew would eventually come. Wasn't there a potion to stop such trivial things as emotions? They really badgered her sometimes.

"I don't see why Weaselbee – _Weasley, _and _Scarhead – _don't give me that look woman, I'm trying here – need to know about us. What good will it do if they know? What bad will it do if they don't? They haven't know for the past four months, what's a few more?" The silver-eyed boy finally stated what she'd been thinking herself. She cursed him mentally. Sometimes she wished they weren't on the same intellectual level. It would really save her some trouble.

"They're my best friends-"

"Yeah, and I have friends too. They don't know and I'm not inclined to tell them anytime soon. You know how Potty – _Potter – _will act once he finds out. I won't say anything about Weasley because clearly, he has _other _things on his mind."

Raising an eyebrow at his insinuation of Ron's sex life, Hermione answered him,

"I know that, Draco, I really do. Don't you know that's what I'm worried about? I would've told them sooner but – it's _Harry. _He has so much on his plate already and I just can't add _my _personal life in the mix of his already messy thoughts, I mean Voldemort's Inner Circle was just murdered and I – I'm so sorry, Draco, I'm sorry I didn't mean to-" Hermione suddenly cut herself off at the hard look in her lover's eyes. She'd so blatantly spit out the information he'd only told her a week previously without any presumption of his immediate feelings on the matter and –

"It's fine," Draco suddenly stopped Hermione's thoughts at his words and hand sliding away from her chin. "That bastard decided to die a long time ago as did the rest of them. It doesn't-"

"He was your _father_, Draco-"

"- Matter whether you bring it up or not." Draco finished as if he hadn't heard her nor been interrupted. She suddenly sighed and felt the urge to cry again. How could she have been so incompetent? Here was the boy she loved, clearly mourning his father's death – no matter how justified or right the death was – and she was whining about lying to her friends who were at least living. She felt so callous.

"Draco, I –"

"Stop," he suddenly gripped her face in his hands, his face looming above hers with his molten silver eyes, "don't apologize or tell me it's alright to be upset. I don't give a fuck about him or Voldemort or any of that, to be honest. His actions were brash and he _died _because of them. It's his fault and I'm glad he's dead, alright? So don't you dare go apologizing for bringing it up or suddenly get some sick, twisted motion that you're to blame for-"

Draco's rant was cut off as a pair of lips descended upon his own. Releasing his grip on her cheeks, Draco's arms slid down the slim body of the girl pressed against him and settled them on her waist as he returned the kiss. She was seemingly trying to comfort him through the way they had for months – through touch, through love, through _feeling _each other. He wasn't good at words and she tended to ramble until she broke down into heavy sobs that lasted late into the night. So they'd turned to this – to physically showing each other how much they meant to one another, show them how much they were _loved. _

Hermione's arms wrapped tightly around the blonde's neck as she kissed him deeply, now standing on her tiptoes. She knew her feet would most likely cramp up from the position, but she didn't care. Right now, all she cared about was Draco's hands on her hips and his mouth on hers. It was all that _ever _mattered in these moments. It was just them and the contentment of _being. _

But, as Shakespeare once said, "By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes." And wicked it was if an angry Harry Potter was anything to go by.

* * *

Harry had already known Hermione would be in the Library. She'd told Ron and him earlier that she'd been going to study for her NEWTs and not to wait up. She did it so often that they'd just dismissed it. Better to not get in the way of Hermione and her studies, after all. So Harry stalked through the corridors of Hogwarts trying to rein his temper in and force himself to _not _blurt out what Ron had just told him once he found the bushy-haired girl he called his best friend. Of course, once he'd found her, in a hidden alcove in the Library, all thoughts of Ron had automatically left his mind. How could they not when she was suddenly in front of her with Draco Malfoy's tongue shoved down her throat?

"_Hermione?_" He'd all but screeched – quite like a banshee – at the girl. She jerked away from the blonde boy so fast he would've been worried she'd got whiplash if he weren't so bloody confused and angry. Instead of worrying, he focused on his anger.

"Harry! I-" she suddenly looked nervous as she looked at the blonde now standing protectively in front of her and her best friend. She seemed close to tears. He'd kill Malfoy if he'd hurt her in anyway.

"What the hell is going on? What'd you do to her?" he changed tactics and focus as he glared at the Malfoy heir. Leave it up to Draco Malfoy to drug the 'Queen of all Mudbloods' as he'd so kindly called her a few years previous. He _would _be the one to stoop so low as to that. It was disgusting – despicable even.

"_I _didn't _do _anything, Pothead. You're the one who interrupted such a perfectly pleasant snog so if you wouldn't-"

Harry suddenly had his wand in his hand and pointed at the blonde. Hermione gave a squeak and tried to step in between the boys and wand. If it weren't for Draco's arm holding her back, she would've. Sadly, she was trapped between his body and a table.

"Don't spew your bullshit to me, Malfoy. I know you did something to her. Hermione's not stupid enough to want anything to do with you," he snarled at the boy. His green eyes suddenly seemed quite feral. It worried Hermione immensely. She knew his magic tended to lash out when he was angry.

"Harry, it's not like that. I was –"

"Hermione, you're obviously under some smell or potion's influence. You're not daft enough to stoop to such a level as being with _this_ disgusting excuse of a human being," Harry cut her off with a glance in her direction and a full on deathly glare in Draco's. She suddenly seemed to gain her awareness of the situation at his words. Her face heated with anger.

"Are you insinuating that I'd have to be an impotent, shambolically incapable person to fall in love with him? Are you calling me daft? Ignorant, even? Because if there's one thing I'm certain of, Harry Potter, is that I'm not stupid. Don't you dare even begin to state that I might be."

Harry glared – for the first time in their six years of friendship – at Hermione throughout her monologue. She knew that wasn't what he meant. She knew he was merely stating that it was just an ignorant _idea _that she wouldn't have anything to do with it. Was she actually standing up for the blonde, now?

"I-"

"Don't you dare insult her, Potter. I may be a Pureblood, but that won't stop me from shattering your jaw in a heart beat," Draco spoke up as he glared at the wand directed at him and the wielder of said weapon. He would let them sort it out, sure, but no one insulted _his _property.

"What is this? Some twisted love you have for her? You're not worth a glance from her and you know it. Aren't you above conversing with Mudbloods anyways?" Harry hissed, a crack appearing on the bookcase next to him. He paid no attention to it as he directed the full force of his glare onto Draco. He wasn't playing around now. He'd caught Draco Malfoy and his _best friend _snogging in the Library. This was something serious.

"It's none of your business-"

"Damn right it is my business! Hermione's my best friend and I won't have the likes of you messing with her. She doesn't need this in her life. You should've joined your dad in that fire," Harry growled, his eyes darkening a fraction. He missed the fleeting look of an unknown emotion in Draco's eyes, but he did _not _miss the sudden uppercut that connected with this face. Stumbling backwards in both pain and shock, he grabbed his jaw and looked up to see Hermione in front of Draco with her fist still raised. Raising his eyebrows in shock, he could only stare at her as she spoke,

"Don't you _dare _say that, Harry James Potter. Draco is nothing like his father and never will be. It's not your choice who I'm with or what I do or don't need in my life. You can't go around protecting me from trivial things like relationships, Harry. I'm your best friend – I've faced Voldemort nearly as many times as you have and you know it. If I can survive an encounter with the most powerful Dark Wizard ever known, I can handle love.

"This is exactly why I _didn't _tell you at first, because I knew how you'd react. You wouldn't listen to my side. You never _have. _You're brash and reckless, Harry. Ron didn't quit talking to you in Fourth Year because you were in the Tournament. He quit talking to you _because you made him. _Just like you're doing to me, now.

"I used to be positive of one thing, Harry, that you were my best friend through anything and I could always count on you. But now, I'm not so sure."

Harry merely stared at the girl through her monologue – or rant – as she glared daggers at him before suddenly sagging with sadness. He sent her a glare as well as Draco before turning away and leaving the couple. If she wanted to ruin her life with him, she could go right ahead. Harry just wouldn't be around to watch.

* * *

"I'm sorry, does it hurt?"

Harry winced in pain at the pressure put on his jaw and ground out a "No," to the blonde girl administering to his wound. He'd immediately sought out his girl friend after his encounter with Draco and Hermione. Finding her on her way out of Ravenclaw Tower was pure chance, really. When she'd seen the growing bruise on his jaw and the split lip, she'd turned into a smothering woman. Leading him toward an alcove that overlooked the grounds, she'd decided to heal him. That, now, was there currently were.

"How did this happen, Harry?" she asked, her normally dreamy tone dialed down a bit. It was rare for Luna to showcase her abilities or intelligence in such a manner, but she'd always had a soft spot for Harry. Especially now since they'd been dating for a year.

"Hermione," he ground out as she cast a final "_Tergeo," _and sat back on the windowsill. He didn't want to say it out loud – to say, "I caught Draco Malfoy and Hermione snogging in the Library, and oh, by the way, she punched me." Not only did it hurt his pride – and Gryffindors were all for pride – it hurt him period. Hermione had _punched him. _That hurt. Emotionally and physically.

"Why would Hermione hit you? She has such a calm temper," Luna's soft, dreamy voice was beginning to return as no immediate danger needed her awareness. Harry had always the admired her ability to just forget about the actions of reality going on around her. He envied her for that. What he would give to just _forget_ sometimes.

"I caught her with Malfoy. Snogging," he told the blue-eyed girl in front of him as he massaged his jaw and popped his neck. He felt the need to keep moving in some way. Otherwise he might explode. His anger hadn't calmed in the slightest.

"Hermione and Draco? That's a… lovely pair," she stated before looking out the window over the grounds. Harry could only look shocked. Luna thought they were _a lovely pair? _She _did _realize who he was talking about, didn't she? Draco Malfoy and lovely were never meant to be used together.

"Draco Malfoy, Luna. His father's a Death Eater, _he's _probably a Death Eater, he's a _Slytherin, _must I continue with my reasons of why he's such a prat?" he asked his girlfriend as she continued to stare out the window over the snow covered grounds. It was still February, after all.

"Harry, you should be above that. Just because his dad made a bad choice doesn't mean he has to. If that were the case, I'd assume you were a bully because of _your_ dad," Luna told the boy next to her with a dreamy lilt to her voice. She turned to look at him with her crystal blue eyes only to turn away again. "Draco is a nice boy, Harry. Hermione clearly sees that now. Or the nargles have gotten her…"

Harry looked at Luna curiously again before staring out the window as well. Draco Malfoy a _nice boy? _Luna was a good judge of character, sure, but just imagining Draco Malfoy without the words 'Filthy' and 'Mudblood' coming out of his mouth was a job all on its own. This just didn't make sense to him. Hermione was a smart girl, she obviously knew what Draco was really like. Why would she still choose to be with him?

"He's a prat, Luna. He's only bad for her, he must have her under a spell or something. He'll _ruin her. _Hermione's so… _pure. _Malfoy, well, isn't. If it's real – if it's true, they can't be together. He'll hurt her. Hermione – I can't have her hurt." He finished with a sneer on his face. It was only the sudden jerk of his girlfriend's head that made him look back at her. The glazed over look in her eyes had faded. She suddenly looked… serious. Too serious.

"I've seen them together, Harry," she started, "and he's different with her. He's kind, he's gentle. Draco Malfoy isn't the cold, callous man you've always witnessed in his presence. Hermione is also different. It's not bad, Harry. I thought it was just friendship but I don't know. They're obviously in love.

"I know you want to stop it. Protect her from him. But you're blinded by your hatred of him. It's not just that she makes him a better person, she does, but he changes her too. Draco challenges her, surprises her, he makes her question her life, beliefs. Ron is different – I know you wanted them to be together, Harry, but that wouldn't work - his love is pure, he'll always be good for her. But Draco, Harry, Draco is either the best thing for her or the worst. And I don't think it's your place to decide which one it is."

Harry stared at Luna for a moment in first shock, then contemplation. He'd only seen Luna serious when danger caused her too or something else. She always preferred to be off in her own world. But now, _this, _it meant she wanted him to focus, to listen. So he did. He rethought her words, he thought about them hard. And he realized it didn't make a difference, not really, no. Draco Malfoy was still the boy who'd bullied the three of them relentlessly for six years with a father who happened to be Lord Voldemort's right-hand man. It wasn't right. It just _wasn't. _

"It's not your place to decide which one it is, Harry," Luna said again before grabbing his hand and rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. He stared down at her administrations before connecting his gaze with hers once more. Seeing the honesty in her eyes and the look of pure trust and hope, he knew what he needed to do. He wasn't famous for his grudge-holding abilities or temper like Ron. He was the median in everything. He was the levelheaded one and Luna was trying to remind him of that. He suddenly felt very exhausted and weighed down. But, he also felt wide-awake. He knew what he needed to do.

"I'm going to go find Hermione," he told his girl friend as he stood up, her standing with him and interlacing their fingers together.

"I'll come with you," she smiled softly at him before kissing him gently on his now fully healed jaw. "After all, there's an abundance of wrackspurts flying around…"

Harry smiled at his girl friend, which had now returned to 'normal', and walked with her back toward the Library. Hopefully, when he left this time, he'd have his best friend still. He might not be accepting of the relationship, but Hermione had been right. It wasn't his choice on the matter. He didn't have the right to judge their relationship or how Malfoy was with her. He really didn't. He couldn't only be there for her if he – _when _he – hurt her. But, for now, he'd take Luna's advice.

Draco was either the best thing or worst thing for Hermione and he'd let her figure out which one it was. If it happened to be the latter, though, he wouldn't hesitate on casting the same spell the color of his eyes. It was, after all, his business.

* * *

**The End**


End file.
